


I know you didn’t stay at Hogwarts just for the Cribbage’s Wizarding Crackers

by HufflepuffCariad



Series: Shipmas 2018 [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Hogwarts, Infertility, Nevilleisagreathusband, Shipmas, Shipmas 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 09:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16950999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HufflepuffCariad/pseuds/HufflepuffCariad
Summary: It's Christmas Eve and Hannah is struggling with loss and loneliness. Has she thrown everything away?Discussion of infertility warning for anyone who needs it.Thanks Littlerose 13 for the Prompt: I know you didn’t stay at Hogwarts just for the Cribbage’s Wizarding Crackers





	I know you didn’t stay at Hogwarts just for the Cribbage’s Wizarding Crackers

It was Neville’s mum that was the last straw. Even Alice Longbottom, who didn’t seem to have a clue what was going on, knew that Hannah was infertile. Infertile. What a cold word. Barren, childless. All the words were empty and cruel.

They’d argued when they got back, or rather Hannah had. Neville had , as always, been unfailingly, infuriatingly patient. ‘How can you be so calm?’ she’d thought? ‘How can you not want to scream, and tear your insides out?’ But of course it was her insides that were broken. She’d left their joint quarters and not gone back. And now here she was, contemplating Christmas at Hogwarts alone.

Of course it was due to Neville that she was at Hogwarts in the first place. He had been the one to have faith in her, to encourage her to pursue her dream, to go back and retrain. She’d wanted to be a healer as long as she could remember, and all she’d learnt whilst helping Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing was invaluable to Dumbledore’s army. But she’d lost too much in the war, they all had. Hogwarts had been where she’d found out about her mum, and had become a place of pain, of fear, of wondering whose wounds she’d have to tend to next. The place where she’d seen so many people fall, people she couldn’t heal. She couldn’t wait to get out of there. They’d relaxed the requirements for many careers after the battle, not wanting to penalise the students who’d been denied a chance to take their NEWTS, and needing to replace those who were lost. But not for healing. Well, she supposed, lives were at stake. Unable to face another year at Hogwarts she had left with no plan and no future she could see. She’d drifted into a job at the Leaky Cauldron, needing to pay the bills, and when the owner said they were retiring and asked if Hannah wanted to take over the lease, she’d accepted, not knowing what else to do with her life. There was nothing wrong with bartending of course. But she never felt like it completely fit her, and she mourned for what could have been.  
But she liked the customers, the banter. Some more than others of course. She liked when the Aurors came in after their shifts. Well, if she was honest with herself, one particular Auror. She could handle the tricky customers, everyone in Dumbledore’s Army could handle themselves, but it didn’t stop the Aurors getting involved, trying to help. It was no surprise that most of them were Gryffindors! But not Neville. He could see that she could handle it, let her take control, letting her know he was available if she needed him. She loved him for that, for not assuming she was weak, but of course, Neville Longbottom, war hero, Order of Merlin first class, wouldn’t be interested in her. No-one was ever interested in Hannah. But she noticed him coming in more often, lingering longer to chat when he bought drinks. ‘You’re here so often, you should move in!’ she’d joked. Eventually, of course, he did.

When he left the Auror office to follow his dream of teaching Herbology, it gave her the confidence to follow hers, and with his help, and his belief in her, she began to retrain. He always turned down the post of Head of Gryffindor House, knowing it would mean he would have to live at Hogwarts, always telling her that she was more important. She knew he’d be great at it, knew how much his students looked up to him. But Neville Longbottom knew the importance of family. The thought stuck in her throat.  
And then, just as she was about to qualify, Madame Pomfrey sent her an owl, telling her that she was retiring, and encouraging her to apply for the post. Hannah couldn’t believe it! Her life was finally coming together. They could settle down, have a family. She’d wanted a baby for a while now, but a pub was no place for a child. Although- and she hadn’t told anyone, not even Neville- she hadn’t been taking her contraceptive potion for a while. Just getting her body ready, she told herself. She didn’t get pregnant, but put it down to the stress of retraining whilst running a pub and supporting her husband in his new career. No, Hogwarts, Hogwarts would be the place.

Any trepidation she felt about returning quickly evaporated, and Hogwarts was the place she remembered from her first few years- a place full of life or laughter, of experiments (sometimes experiments that went wrong, that kept her busy), of learning, of food, so much food! She loved her job, tending to her students, and loved seeing Neville grow in confidence as Head of his house. Seeing how much his students looked up to him reinforced what she already knew, that he’d be a great Dad.

When she didn’t get pregnant she put it down to the excitement of a new home, a new job. And then she thought maybe it was the potion she took to manage the anxiety that had dogged her her whole life. And after she stopped taking it, after still nothing, there were the tests, so many tests. But no-one could find anything wrong with her, she was healthy, they both were. But still no baby. She felt the bitter irony of being a healer who couldn’t heal herself.

Throughout it all Neville told her that it was ok, that they had each other, and that was more than many had. They had their friends, their godchildren. They should be grateful when so many had lost so much. Hannah had tried to accept that, to believe that Neville didn’t mind, but she didn’t, couldn’t believe him. When had she ever been enough for anyone? Her Dad had scorned her after her mum died, retreating into a world of alcoholism, spurning anyone and anything relating to magic. He’d lost his wife in a war that he, as a Muggle, couldn’t understand, and his response was to reject all connections to the Wizarding World, his daughter included. As much as Hannah had tried to reach him, he’d pushed her away, until he died of a broken heart a few years later. 

She’d been desperate to start a family with Neville, to start again, to create the family that neither of them had. She knew that he’d love a daughter to name after his mum, a son after his father, however supportive he was. She found herself wondering how long he would stay, assessing the fertility of their single colleagues. That new potions professor was very attractive. She looked like she could easily bear children. How could she compete?

So when Alice had looked at her and said ‘baby?’ something inside Hannah had broken. They hadn’t even known that Alice knew who she was, despite Neville introducing her as his wife each time they visited. Yet here she was, asking why she didn’t have grandchildren. It was more than Hannah could take.

She thought she would have to see Neville, but she underestimated how big Hogwarts was. The house elves were happy to bring her food in the hospital wing, and no-one questioned her when she said she needed to stay to look after her patients. It was easy enough to send a student to go down to the greenhouses whenever she needed an ingredient, and Neville had learnt enough basic healing as part of his Auror training to not need her services. The longer it went, the harder it became to break the ice, to reach out to him. The logical part of her brain knew that Neville was giving her space, the space she’d asked for, but the darker corners of her mind told her that it confirmed what she already knew, that Neville didn’t need her, and was better off without her, that she couldn’t give him what she needed.

And now it was Christmas Eve. Most of the students had gone home, but Hannah of course had stayed, ostensibly in case her students needed her, but there was no-one in the hospital wing at the moment, and actually, she had nowhere else to go. She’d been invited to Harry and Ginny’s annual party, but couldn’t face going. There were too many memories of going with Neville, of laughing so hard she spat out her mulled mead, of playing with the children under the Christmas tree. And of course Neville would be there, and she wasn’t sure she could face him either. His eyes so kind they would surely make her cry. If she stayed here, she could avoid him.

Tomorrow, she supposed he would go to his Grandmother’s. That she was not sorry to miss. Mrs Longbottom (never, ever Augusta) had never approved, never thought she was good enough for her war hero Grandson. And wasn’t she right? Thankfully she’d never had to spend the whole day with her due to the open door Christmas dinner she ran at the Leaky for anyone who had no-where to go (and some of those who would rather be there than at home). Mrs Longbottom had reluctantly attended when it became clear that Neville would be spending the day there rather than with her, sniffing about being forced to spend Christmas in a pub (until she drank so much elf wine that she actually became quite cheery). No she was not sorry to miss that. She was better off at Hogwarts.

She couldn’t avoid a pang of disappointment however, when she came down for dinner on Christmas Eve to find Neville’s seat empty. A couple of teachers and a handful of students were all that remained, the students excitedly talking about the presents they would receive, and the Cribbage’s Wizarding crackers that they only got at Hogwarts. She went to bed feeling even emptier than usual. She never drank alcohol, having seen the impact it had had one some of her customers, and on those who had been left behind, like her Dad, and Parvati Patil who had never got over the loss of Lavender. But tonight, she wanted to block everything out, and she knew that firewhisky was her best chance of doing that.

She awoke on Christmas day much later than she’d intended to, head thumping and mouth tasting like sawdust. She contemplated going back to bed, but decided she would force herself to go down to the Christmas feast. Her hangover shamed her, jolting her into realising that she couldn’t go on like this. Step one, get dressed and go down to the Great Hall. She tried not to think of Neville, grinning as he opened his presents, pretending he liked them no matter what they were or who they were from. There were no presents waiting for her that morning.

She took a breath as she entered the hall to see Neville, laughing with the student next to him. His eyes were twinkling as he pulled one of his crackers, but knowing him so well, she thought she detected a hint of sadness behind them. That seemed to disappear as he looked up to see her entering, and his face filled with warmth as he smiled at her. Oh, she’d missed that smile, those eyes that only ever looked that way at her. She held his gaze and wondered how on earth she’d let him go.

‘Neville!’ called the Transfiguration Professor, interrupting the moment. ‘Didn’t expect to see you today, I thought you’d gone home?’

‘Ah, I couldn’t miss out on Cribbage’s Wizarding crackers!’ he grinned.

It was almost like old times. They laughed, she smiled, he talked the ear off anyone who would listen about the magical properties of poinsettias and how the Muggles had no idea the potency of the plant they brought into their homes each year. And he looked at her. Didn’t stop looking at her except when his attention was called away by a student. Looked at her like she was the loveliest thing she’d ever seen. Was it possible? She wondered? Could he love her still?

‘I’m stuffed’ he declared at the end of the meal. ‘Just when I think the house elves can’t do any better, they go and outdo themselves all over again! I need a walk after all that, fancy it?’

They walked in silence at first, enjoying the cool air on their faces, until Hannah could take it no more.

‘Why are you here Neville? I know you didn’t stay at Hogwarts for Cribbages Wizarding crackers.’

He smiled softly. ‘No. I stayed for you. Hannah, I know you’re hurting, and I’m so, so sorry I haven’t been able to take away that hurt. Yesterday I went-‘

‘Yes I know, you went to Harry and Ginny’s party.’

‘No, I went to St Mungo’s, to see Mum and Dad. To tell them that I wouldn’t be able to come today. 

‘But-but they’re family! They’re important!’

‘Yes, they’re important, but Hannah, they are nothing compared to you. I told them that I’d be spending the day with you, doing everything I could to get you back. I miss you so much.’

Tears flowed down her face. ‘But I can’t give you what you need. I can’t give you a family.’

‘You are my family. Hannah you are what I need. You’re all I need. I don’t care if we never have children, if I lose everything. As long as I have you.’

She looked up into his deep brown eyes, and sobbed as he held her close, as he had many times before. But she felt something shift inside her. Maybe, just maybe, she could believe him this time. And maybe, just maybe, it would all be ok.

**Author's Note:**

> J K Rowling never talked about Hannah and Neville having kids when she did the extra bits, and I know that lots of people perfectly legitimately choose not to have kids, but I feel like Neville would make a great Dad, and would want to pass down the family names.  
> This is a bit more melancholy than my usual work, but keep reading the Shipmas series if you are disappointed it didn't end more neatly!


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